His Runaway Princess: Bound By The Tycoon

Audrey Hebert twisted the tangled, sweat-soaked bedsheets in her hands.

The cramped Los Angeles apartment was suffocatingly hot, the broken window unit doing nothing to fight the heavy morning heat. A thin sheen of sweat coated her forehead, making her dark hair stick to her skin. Her subconscious was fighting a losing battle.

"Audrey."

A deep, gravelly male voice whispered her name in the dark corners of her dream.

A violent shiver ripped down her spine. Her back arched involuntarily off the cheap mattress.

Large, calloused hands gripped her waist. The phantom pressure felt so intensely real, so heavy and demanding, that she gasped aloud in the empty, silent room. Her chest heaved. The air felt too thick to breathe.

The man in the shadows leaned in. She felt the ghost of his hot breath against her neck, right over her racing pulse. He bit down gently on her collarbone.

The sensory overload was absolute. Audrey gripped the soft, lumpy pillow tightly, her knuckles turning white. Her breathing turned ragged, tearing through her throat.

She tried to push the heavy figure away. She raised her hands in the dream, but her wrists were easily, effortlessly pinned above her head. The grip was like an iron vise. She was completely defenseless, pinned to the mattress by a weight she knew intimately.

The man smirked. She couldn't see his face clearly, but she felt the rough pad of his thumb grazing her lower lip, pressing down just enough to part them.

A pathetic, needy whimper forced its way out of her throat, echoing loudly in the quiet bedroom.

The sudden, shrill ringing of an iPhone shattered the heavy silence.

The sound acted like a bucket of ice water. It yanked her violently out of the deep, erotic sleep.

Audrey jolted upright in bed. Her chest heaved heavily, drawing in greedy gulps of the stale apartment air. She stared wildly at the peeling floral wallpaper, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. Reality crashed down on her, cold and unforgiving.

It was just a dream. A dream about Zane Kensington. Again.

A massive wave of shame and frustration washed over her, making her stomach churn. Five years. It had been five years, and her body still betrayed her like this.

Wiping the cold sweat from her forehead with a trembling hand, she reached for the vibrating device on the cheap, scratched nightstand.

She saw Mila Foster's name flashing across the screen, a single, jagged crack running down its center.

Audrey took a deep, shaky breath, forcing her lungs to steady. She cleared her throat to mask her raspy voice before swiping the green button to answer.

"Morning, gorgeous!" Mila screamed through the speaker, her energetic voice piercing the quiet room.

Audrey quickly pulled the phone away from her sensitive ear, wincing.

"Hey, Mila," Audrey replied softly. She tried to hide her erratic heartbeat, but her voice still carried a breathless, husky edge.

Mila immediately caught the tone. There was a sharp pause on the other end.

"Hold on," Mila said, her voice dropping into a teasing register. "Do you have a man hidden under those covers? You sound like you just ran a marathon. Or rode one."

Audrey's face flushed a deep, guilty crimson. The heat rushed to her cheeks, burning her skin.

"No! Absolutely not," Audrey stammered harshly. She gripped the thin blanket tightly, pulling it up to her chest as if Mila could see her through the phone. She was terrified that her best friend might discover her pathetic, lingering feelings for a man who belonged in her past.

Mila laughed off the denial, the sound loud and unapologetic. "Babe, a five-year dry spell is a crime against humanity. Your body is probably forgetting what to do."

Audrey rolled her eyes, her bare feet shifting on the sheets. She needed to change the subject before Mila dug any deeper.

"Julian's flight lands in two hours," Audrey said quickly, hoping to distract Mila with the news of her brother's arrival. "I need to get ready to pick him up."

Mila ignored the bait completely.

"I'm sending a care package to your apartment," Mila insisted aggressively. "My company just launched a new line of adult toys. Top tier silicone. You need it, Audrey. Trust me."

Audrey panicked. Her stomach dropped. "No! Mila, do not send that here."

"Why not?"

"I live in a sketchy building," Audrey argued loudly, her voice rising. "Packages get stolen from the lobby all the time. I do not want my creepy neighbor opening a box of vibrators with my name on it."

"Relax," Mila stated confidently. "I already paid for premium discreet delivery. It comes in a plain brown box. You won't even know what it is until you open it. You're welcome."

Audrey was completely cornered. She couldn't decline a package that was already in transit.

She groaned in defeat, rubbing her temples with her free hand. She felt a sharp headache forming right behind her eyes from Mila's relentless, boundary-pushing friendship.

"I have to go," Mila said cheerfully. "Have fun with Julian. And have fun with the box tonight!"

Mila hung up the phone. The abrupt silence left Audrey staring at the dark screen in utter disbelief.

Audrey tossed the phone onto the mattress. She buried her hot face in her hands, pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes, trying desperately to banish Zane's lingering ghost from her mind. The phantom heat of his touch still burned on her waist.

She pushed the heavy blankets aside. Her bare feet hit the cold hardwood floor. The chill seeped through her soles, finally grounding her back in reality.

Audrey walked over to the small, cracked mirror hanging above her dresser. She stared at her reflection. Her cheeks were flushed, her dark hair was a messy nest, and her eyes looked wide and vulnerable. She hated how much Zane still affected her physiology.

She turned on the cold tap in the tiny adjoining bathroom. She cupped her hands, splashing freezing water directly onto her face. The shock of the cold water made her gasp, but it washed away the shameful vulnerability.

Grabbing a rough, cheap towel, she dried her skin vigorously until it turned slightly pink. She looked at the digital clock on the counter. She needed to leave for LAX soon to pick up Julian.

She walked to her small, cramped closet. She bypassed the few nice dresses she owned and pulled out a simple, oversized gray college hoodie. She pulled it over her head, letting the thick fabric hide her figure completely. She wanted to feel safe. She wanted to be invisible.

Audrey grabbed her worn-out car keys from the kitchen counter. She double-checked her flight tracking app on her phone to ensure Julian's plane from London was still on time.

She stepped out of the apartment, locking the flimsy wooden door behind her. She walked out into the bright, blinding Los Angeles morning, completely unaware of the impending collision with her past.

Audrey parked her old, dented Honda Civic in the LAX economy lot.

The hot morning air shimmered above the vast expanse of concrete as she stepped out of the car. She pulled the hood of her oversized sweatshirt up, shielding her face and neck from the blinding sun.

She walked quickly toward the terminal, the sliding glass doors of the Tom Bradley International Terminal opening with a mechanical hum.

The overwhelming noise of the crowd hit her instantly. Hundreds of people were rushing, shouting, and dragging wheeled suitcases across the hard tile floors. The sheer volume of humanity made her chest tighten with mild anxiety.

Audrey walked over to the giant digital arrivals board. Her eyes scanned the glowing yellow text until she found Julian's flight from London. The status read "LANDED." She let out a long, shaky sigh of relief. He was finally here.

She navigated through the sea of waiting families and chauffeurs holding black iPads with names on them. She found a relatively quiet spot behind a thick, round concrete pillar, giving herself a clear view of the customs exit doors while remaining somewhat hidden.

Audrey pulled out her phone to text Julian her exact location. Her thumbs flew quickly across the cracked screen.

I'm by the coffee shop, behind the big pillar. Look for the gray hoodie.

Just as she hit send, a notification popped up at the top of her screen from her bank app. It showed a dangerously low balance.

Audrey bit her lower lip hard, the sharp sting grounding her. A wave of stress tightened her stomach. Rent was due in a week, and her background acting gigs were barely covering groceries.

She quickly swiped the notification away, dismissing it. She refused to let financial worries ruin the happy reunion with her brother. They hadn't seen each other in five years. Today was about family.

She looked up toward the sliding frosted glass doors of the customs exit. Her eyes scanned the diverse crowd pouring out, searching for Julian's familiar, handsome face.

A group of loud tourists, pushing two overloaded luggage carts, shoved past her. The sudden movement forced Audrey to step sideways to avoid getting hit. She stumbled slightly, her shoulder bumping hard into a tall metal trash can.

"Sorry," she muttered quickly to no one in particular, steadying herself.

As she regained her balance, her gaze accidentally drifted past the main crowd, looking toward the VIP exit lane on the far right.

Through a brief gap in the moving crowd, Audrey spotted a towering male figure.

He was dressed in a meticulously tailored charcoal Tom Ford suit that screamed generational wealth. He had his back turned to her, talking quietly to an airline official in a crisp uniform.

But the broad, powerful shoulders, the perfect, rigid posture, and the dark hair styled flawlessly sent a violent, electric shock straight through her central nervous system.

Audrey's breath hitched painfully in her throat. Her lungs simply stopped working. Her mind instantly flashed back to the intense, suffocating dream from just an hour ago. The phantom weight of his hands returned to her waist.

She took an involuntary step backward. Her cheap sneakers squeaked slightly on the polished airport floor. Pure, unadulterated panic rose in her chest, clawing at her throat.

The man slowly turned his head to the side to address the official.

The movement revealed a sharp, aristocratic jawline. It was a profile Audrey had memorized down to the millimeter. The straight nose, the hard line of his jaw, the cold aura of absolute authority.

Audrey's heart began to hammer wildly against her ribs. The beats were so fast and hard they actually hurt. Her hands started trembling so violently she nearly dropped her phone onto the tile floor.

She immediately ducked behind the thick concrete pillar. She pressed her back flat against the cold, hard surface, squeezing her eyes shut.

No. No. No.

She desperately told herself she was hallucinating. It was the lack of sleep. It was the dream messing with her head. She was rationalizing the impossible. Zane Kensington belonged in New York. He ruled the East Coast. He had no business being in a public terminal at LAX.

She took three deep, shaky breaths, forcing the air into her tight lungs. She tried to slow her racing pulse. She was terrified that he might have sensed her presence, that his predatory instincts would draw him straight to her hiding spot.

A loud, booming voice over the intercom announced a gate change, the sudden noise startling Audrey and breaking her momentary paralysis.

Gathering every ounce of her courage, she slowly opened her eyes. She peeked carefully around the edge of the concrete pillar, praying to God that the man was just a stranger with a similar build.

The spot near the VIP exit was now completely empty.

The man in the charcoal suit had vanished into the crowd, leaving no trace behind.

Audrey exhaled a massive, shaky breath. She slumped slightly against the pillar, the tension draining from her muscles. She felt a confusing, sickening mix of immense relief and a tiny, bitter drop of disappointment that she immediately hated herself for.

She scolds herself internally for being so paranoid. She slapped her own cheeks lightly with both hands, the sharp sting snapping her out of the pathetic romantic delusion.

Get a grip, Audrey.

Her phone buzzed violently in her hand, startling her again. She looked down. The screen displayed an incoming call from Julian.

Audrey eagerly swiped to answer, pressing the phone to her ear. "Julian?" her voice cracked slightly. She cleared her throat. "Where are you?"

Julian's warm, familiar voice came through the speaker, instantly soothing her frayed nerves. "I just passed customs, Audie. My heavy trunks were shipped ahead last week, so I only have my carry-on. I'm walking toward the coffee shop right now."

Audrey smiled genuinely for the first time today. She pushed away from the pillar, her anxiety replaced by pure familial joy.

"I see the coffee shop," she said, quickly walking toward the designated meeting spot. Her eyes frantically searched the faces of the approaching passengers.

Then, she spotted him. A tall man waving at her from the distance, holding a sleek leather duffel bag. Julian.

Audrey shoved her phone into her pocket, preparing herself for the long-awaited reunion.

Audrey broke into a run. She jogged the last few steps past the crowded coffee shop queue, throwing her arms open.

She crashed directly into Julian's chest. She threw her arms around his neck, burying her face deep into the lapel of his expensive, dark navy wool coat. He smelled like London rain and the familiar, comforting scent of her childhood.

Julian dropped his heavy leather duffel bag onto the floor with a thud. He wrapped his arms tightly around his sister, lifting her slightly off the ground in a fierce, crushing hug.

Audrey felt hot tears prickling the corners of her eyes. The five years of crushing loneliness, the financial struggle, the constant fear-it all finally found a safe harbor in her brother's embrace. She squeezed him tighter, afraid he might disappear.

Julian gently set her down. He held her shoulders at arm's length, his sharp, intelligent eyes scanning her appearance. He took in her oversized, faded gray hoodie, her pale face, and the dark circles under her eyes.

A flash of deep, agonizing guilt crossed Julian's eyes. He realized instantly how much she had suffered while he was exiled in Europe. He noticed the cheap material of her clothes, a stark contrast to the designer dresses she used to wear.

He gently tucked a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear. "I'm here, Audie," he promised in a low, firm voice. "I will never leave you again. I swear it."

Audrey wiped a rogue tear from her cheek with the back of her sleeve. She smiled brightly, forcing the sadness away. "I'm perfectly fine, Julian. I'm just so happy you're back."

Julian chuckled, his Ivy-League scholar facade softening completely. He patted her head affectionately, ruffling her hair exactly like he did when they were kids.

Then, Julian suddenly seemed to remember his manners. He turned slightly to his right, gesturing to a figure standing a few feet behind him, partially obscured by the crowd.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Julian said, his tone shifting back to polite professionalism.

Audrey shifted her gaze, following his hand.

Her smile froze instantly. The blood in her veins turned to absolute ice.

The tall man in the charcoal Tom Ford suit stepped forward.

He stopped right next to Julian. His towering, broad-shouldered presence immediately sucked all the oxygen out of the crowded airport terminal. The air around them felt heavy, suffocating.

He was wearing dark, aviator sunglasses, completely obscuring his eyes. But the sharp, ruthless jawline, the arrogant posture, the way he commanded the space just by standing there-it was unmistakably familiar.

Audrey's fingers started twitching violently at her sides. Her stomach dropped into a bottomless pit. Her previous hallucination was a terrifying, flesh-and-blood reality.

Julian smiled brightly, completely oblivious to the sudden, deadly tension radiating from his sister. "Audrey, I want you to meet a very good friend of mine, and my business partner from the UK. Zane."

Zane slowly raised a large, elegant hand. He grasped the metal frame of his sunglasses. He moved with agonizing slowness, deliberately dragging out the terrifying moment.

He pulled the glasses off.

He revealed piercing, obsidian-black eyes. Those eyes locked onto Audrey with a predatory, consuming intensity that made her skin burn.

Audrey felt her knees go weak under the crushing weight of that gaze. A terrifying, chaotic mix of raw fear and undeniable, shameful heat rushed through her veins. Her breathing turned shallow.

Zane's lips curled into a slow, dangerous smirk. He was fully enjoying the absolute panic radiating from the beautiful woman standing frozen in front of him.

Julian looked between them. He completely misread Audrey's pale, bloodless face and wide eyes as social anxiety. He gently nudged her shoulder to encourage her to speak.

"Have you ever met my little sister before, Zane?" Julian asked casually, noting that Zane had been staring at her quite intensely since she walked up.

Audrey's heart stopped. Her mind screamed at her to run. She was terrified that Zane would open his mouth and expose their wild, intimate, five-year past right here in the middle of LAX. She couldn't let Julian know.

Zane casually slipped the expensive sunglasses into the breast pocket of his suit. His dark eyes never left Audrey's trembling lips. He paused for dramatic effect, letting the silence stretch until Audrey felt like she was going to pass out.

He tilted his head slightly. His voice was a low, gravelly baritone that sent a violent shiver straight down her spine.

"She looks... somewhat familiar," Zane said smoothly.

Audrey panicked. Her survival instinct kicked in, overriding her fear. She abruptly took a step backward, putting distance between them.

"We have never met before in our lives," Audrey declared loudly, her voice sharp and defensive.

The sudden outburst startled Julian. He looked at his sister in confusion, his brow furrowing. He wondered why she was acting so aggressively defensive toward a stranger.

Zane's smirk deepened at her blatant, desperate lie. His eyes flashed with a dark, possessive amusement, a look she knew all too well, meant only for her. He knew she was lying. He loved that she was lying.

He took a deliberate step closer to her, effortlessly invading her personal space. The rich, intoxicating scent of his expensive cedarwood cologne wrapped around her, triggering a flood of memories she had tried to bury.

Audrey held her breath. Her back stiffened. She was trapped between her brother's cluelessness and her ex-boyfriend's overwhelming, suffocating dominance.

Zane extended his large right hand toward her. The gesture looked perfectly polite and professional to Julian, but it felt like a deadly, inescapable trap to Audrey.

"Zane Kensington," he introduced himself softly, his eyes burning into hers. "It is a pleasure to finally meet Julian's... precious little sister."

He stood there, his hand extended, waiting for her move.